CHAPTER III.
THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER.
So exciting had been the day, and so fully had its every minute beenoccupied, that not until Cabot stood on the deck of the steamer"Lavinia," curiously watching the bustling preparations for herdeparture, did he have time to realise the wonderful change in hisprospects that had taken place within a few hours. That morning hislife had seemed wholly aimless, and he had been filled with envy ofthose among his recent classmates whose services were in demand. Nowhe would not change places with any one of them; for was not he, too,entrusted with an important mission that held promise of a brilliantfuture in case he should carry it to a successful conclusion?
On the deck of the steamer "Lavinia."]
"And I will," he mentally resolved. "No matter what happens, if I liveI will succeed."
In spite of this brave resolve our lad could not help feeling ratherforlorn as he watched those about him, all of whom seemed to havefriends to see them off; while he alone stood friendless and unnoticed.
Especially was his attention attracted to a nearby group of girlsgathered about one who was evidently a bride. They were full of gaychatter, and he overheard one of them say:
"If you come within sight of an iceberg, Nelly, make him go close to itso you can get a good photograph. I should like awfully to have one."
"So should I," cried another. "But, oh! wouldn't it be lovely if wecould only have a picture of this group, standing just as we are aboardthe ship. It would make a splendid beginning for your camera."
The bride, who, as Cabot saw, carried a small brand-new camera similarto one he had recently procured for his own use, promptly expressed herwillingness to employ it as suggested, but was greeted by a storm ofprotests from her companions.
"No, indeed! You must be in it of course!" they cried.
Then it further transpired that all wished to be "in it," and no onewanted to act the part of photographer. At this juncture Cabot steppedforward, and lifting his cap, said:
"I am somewhat of a photographer, and with your permission it wouldafford me great pleasure to take a picture of so charming a group."
For a moment the girls looked at the presumptuous young stranger insilence. Then the bride, flushing prettily, stepped forward and handedhim her camera, saying as she did so:
"Thank you, sir, ever so much for your kind offer, which we are glad toaccept."
So Cabot arranged the group amid much laughter, and by the time twoplates had been exposed, had made rapid progress towards gettingacquainted with its several members.
The episode was barely ended before all who were to remain behind wereordered ashore, and, a few minutes later, as the ship began to moveslowly from her dock, our traveller found himself waving hishandkerchief and shouting good-byes as vigorously as though all on thewharf were assembled for the express purpose of bidding him farewell.
By the time the "Lavinia" was in the stream and headed up the EastRiver, with her long voyage fairly begun, Cabot had learned that hisnew acquaintance was a bride of but a few hours, having been marriedthat morning to the captain of that very steamer. She had hardly madethis confession when her husband, temporarily relieved of hisresponsibilities by a pilot, came in search of her and was dulypresented to our hero. His name was Phinney, and he so took to Cabotthat from that moment the latter no longer found himself lonely or at aloss for occupation.
As he had never before been at sea, the voyage proved full of interest,and his intelligent questions received equally intelligent answers fromCaptain Phinney, who was a well-informed young man but a few yearsolder than Cabot, and an enthusiast in his calling.
Up Long Island Sound went the "Lavinia," and it was late that nightbefore our lad turned in, so interested was he in watching the manylights that were pointed out by his new acquaintance. The next morningfound the ship threading her way amid the shoals of Nantucket Sound,after which came the open sea; and for the first time in his life Cabotlost sight of land. Halifax was reached on the following day, and herethe steamer remained twenty-four hours discharging freight.
The capital of Nova Scotia marks the half-way point between New Yorkand St. Johns, Newfoundland, which name Cabot was already learning topronounce as do its inhabitants--Newfund-_land_--and after leaving itthe ship was again headed for the open across the wide mouth of theGulf of St. Lawrence. Thus far the weather had been fine, the seasmooth, and nothing had occurred to break the pleasant monotony of thevoyage. Its chief interests lay in sighting distant sails, thetell-tale smoke pennons of far-away steamers, the plume-like spoutingsof sluggishly moving whales, the darting of porpoises about the ship'sfore-foot, the wide circling overhead of gulls, or the dainty skimmingjust above the wave crests of Mother Carey's fluffy chickens.
"Who was Mother Carey," asked Cabot, "and why are they her chickens?"
"I have been told that she was the _Mater Cara_ of devout Portuguesesailors," replied Captain Phinney, "and that these tiny sea-fowl aresupposed to be under her especial protection, since the fiercest ofgales have no power to harm them."
"How queerly names become changed and twisted out of their originalshape," remarked Cabot meditatively. "The idea of _Mater Cara_becoming Mother Carey!"
"That is an easy change compared with some others I have run across,"laughed the captain. "For instance, I once put up at an Englishseaport tavern called the 'Goat and Compasses,' and found out that itsoriginal name, given in Cromwell's time, had been 'God EncompassethUs.' Almost as curious is the present name of that portion of theNewfoundland coast nearest us at this minute. It is called'Ferryland,' which is a corruption of 'Verulam,' the name applied byits original owner, Lord Baltimore, in memory of his home estate inEngland. In fact, this region abounds in queerly twisted names, mostof which were originally French. Bai d'espair, for instance, hasbecome Bay Despair. Blanc Sablon and Isle du Bois up on the Labradorcoast have been Anglicised as Nancy Belong and Boys' Island. CapeRace, which is almost within sight, was the Capo Razzo of itsPortuguese discoverer. Cape Spear was Cappo Sperenza, and Pointel'Amour is now Lammer's Point."
While taking part in conversations of this kind both Cabot and Mrs.Phinney, who were the only passengers now left on the ship, kept asharp lookout for icebergs, which, as they had learned, were apt to bemet in those waters at that season. Finally, during the afternoon ofthe last day they expected to spend on shipboard, a distant white speckdead ahead, which was at first taken for a sail, proved to be aniceberg, and from that moment it was watched with the liveliestcuriosity. Before their rapid approach it developed lofty pinnacles,and proved of the most dazzling whiteness, save at the water line,where it was banded with vivid blue. It was exquisitely chiselled andcarved into dainty forms by the gleaming rivulets that ran down itssteep sides and fell into the sea as miniature cascades. Sowonderfully beautiful were the icy details as they were successivelyunfolded, that the bride begged her husband to take his ship just asclose as possible, in order that she might obtain a perfect photograph.Anxious to gratify her every wish, Captain Phinney readily consented,and the ship's course was slightly altered, so as to pass within onehundred feet of the glistening monster, which was now sharply outlinedagainst a dark bank of fog rolling heavily in from the eastward.
Both cameras had been kept busy from the time the berg came withinrange of their finders, but just as the best point of view was reached,and when they were so near that the chill of the ice was distinctlyfelt, Cabot discovered that he had exhausted his roll of films.Uttering an exclamation of disgust, he ran aft and down to hisstateroom, that opened from the lower saloon, to secure anothercartridge. As he entered the room, he closed its door to get at hisdress-suit case that lay behind it.
Recklessly tossing the contents of the case right and left, he had justlaid hands on the desired object and was rising to his feet when,without warning, he was flung violently to the floor by a shock likethat of an earthquake. It was accompanied by a dull roar and an awfulsound of crashing and rending. At
the same time the ship seemed to belifted bodily. Then she fell back, apparently striking on her side,and for several minutes rolled with sickening lurches, as though in thetrough of a heavy sea.
In the meantime Cabot was struggling furiously to open his stateroomdoor; but it had so jammed in its casing that his utmost efforts failedto move it. The steel deck beams overhead were twisted like willowwands, the iron side of the ship was crumpled as though it were a sheetof paper, and with every downward lurch a torrent of icy water pouredin about the air port, which, though still closed, had been wrenchedout of position. With a horrid dread the prisoner realised that unlessquickly released he must drown where he was, and, unable to open thedoor, he began to kick at it with the hope of smashing one of itspanels.
He began to kick at it with the hope of smashing one ofits panels.]
With his first effort in this direction there came another muffled roarlike that of an explosion, and he felt the ship quiver as though itwere being rent in twain. At the same moment his door flew open of itsown accord, and he was nearly suffocated by an inrush of steam.Springing forward, and blindly groping his way through this, thebewildered lad finally reached the stairs he had so recently descended.In another minute he had gained the deck, where he stood gasping forbreath and vainly trying to discover what terrible thing had happened.
Not a human being was to be seen, and the forward part of the ship wasconcealed beneath a dense cloud of steam and smoke that hung over itlike a pall. Cabot fancied he could distinguish shouting in thatdirection, and attempted to gain the point from which it seemed tocome; but found the way barred by a yawning opening in the deck, fromwhich poured smoke and flame as though it were the crater of a volcano.Then he ran back, and at length found himself on top of the afterhouse, cutting with his pocket knife at the lashings of a life raft;for he realised that the ship was sinking so rapidly that she mightplunge to the bottom at any moment.
Five minutes later he lay prone on the buoyant raft, clutching thesides of its wooden platform, while it spun like a storm-driven leaf inthe vortex marking the spot where the ill-fated. "Lavinia" had sunk.